2015 Kataang Week
by Chelber
Summary: Seven days. Seven mere snapshots of their life.
1. Sleep Talking

**A/N: Welcome to ChelberNo1's 2k15 Kataang Week! *screaming***

 **Okay, most of these will be drabbles/short oneshots. For some reason (apart from being a lazy little turd) I couldn't get it together in time to actually write anything longish. And drabbles are super fun to write. Genres will vary from fluff to angst!**

 **This'll be the last author's note until the end of KW… onwards to the Kataangyness! I hope you'll enjoy! :D**

* * *

 **Monday 27th - Sleep Talking**

* * *

There was something to be said about late night cravings, Aang mused as he lay on his side, watching his sleeping wife. When Katara had first started to get cravings, months ago, for a start he didn't take them very seriously.

But now his pregnant wife was mumbling about food in her sleep, subconsciously worrying the sheets between her hands. She had done this a couple of times now in the past few weeks, and after every time she'd woken in the morning, exceedingly snappy, and ate pretty much everything in the cupboards that didn't require any cooking.

Katara suddenly twisted in her sleep, turning onto her side so she was facing him. He watched as she curled protectively around her stomach, completely disregarding the pillow. Smiling softly, Aang sat up, careful not to jostle her, and gently lifted her head and pushed her pillow underneath her cheek. She murmured his name, and he smirked, glad to have outranked her food cravings, even if for only a few moments.

Slipping out from underneath the covers, he padded across the bedroom floor, and made his way to the kitchen. Judging by what he could see of the moon through the window, he'd guess it was around two o'clock.

The kitchen was dark and quiet, and he accidently bumped into one of the benches. Cursing under his breath, he flicked his wrist, lighting the oil lamps near the window.

What food had she been mumbling on about, again? Fruit pies? Fruit pies was definitely one. There was a mango in there somewhere, too. Did they even have any mangoes? A quick check in the cupboards said yes, they did have mangoes. Plenty of fruit and other food, too.

With a hand other his mouth to stifle a yawn, he reached into the back of the cupboard to where he knew the sacks of flour were. Might as well start cooking.

 **0o0**

By dawn, he had at least five different pies cooling on the end of the counter, a tea towel thrown over them to protect them from any invading flies, plus another few cooking in the wood-fire oven. His hands and up to his elbows were covered in flour, and he could feel the stickiness of mango juice on his cheek. Flour, fruit seeds and peelings, and various spoons and ladles were strewn across the bench and, in some cases, floor.

A job well done, he decided. He had never had a cooking session with Gyasto that hadn'tended in total mess, and all of the food _then_ had turned out perfect, so he figured he was on the right track.

Still, with an emotional wife, he'd clean up a little before she woke up. Because if he didn't… well.

The sun had well and truly cleared the horizon, and he was on his knees, scrubbing at some stubborn flour on the floor, when he heard footsteps, coming down the hallway behind him.

'What is this?' Aang half turned around, grinning as he saw Katara standing in the kitchen doorway, hair pulled back into a messy knot, hands cradling her stomach. 'What is this?' she demanded again when he didn't answer.

Still grinning, Aang cast a look at all the pots and pans haphazardly stacked in the sink, each stained or dirtied in some way or another. 'I dare you to guess.'

'You were cooking?'

'I was cooking.'

'And when did you start cooking?'

'At about, um, two o'clock? Yeah, I think it was then.'

Shaking her head, Katara crossed through the doorway, fully entering the kitchen. 'Can I ask _why_ you were up at two in the morning to cook?'

Rather than answering her question, he asked one of his own. 'Do you remember what you were dreaming about last night?'

'Spirits, no. I can never remember my dreams. Why?'

'You talk in your sleep, did you know that?' At the shake of her head, he rose to his feet, grinning again. 'I can always tell when you get cravings, because _all night_ that is all you talk about.'

Katara looked embarrassed. 'I'm sorry, but it's not like I can help it.'

'I know. Seeing you might've started trying to eat my ear or something while I was sleeping, I decided to cook for you.'

'You… you got up early to cook? For me?'

'But of course. Apparently you were wanting fruit pies, and we had plenty of flour to spare.' While he was talking, Katara had shuffled over to where the pies were, and flicked the tea towels off of them.

'Spirits,' she groaned, leaning on the bench. 'These smell so good.'

Aang grabbed a knife, setting it down next to the pie, smirking. 'Of course they do. I made them.'

Katara cut herself a piece. 'You made them for _me._ I should sleep talk more.'

Aang laughed as she took a bite. 'Well, let's hope they taste just as good.'

'They do.' Wiping crumbs from her mouth, she nodded, leaning against her husband. 'Spirits, they do.'


	2. Change

**Tuesday 28th – Change**

* * *

She felt the tension at the base of her skull, heard the whisper of the knife, and felt as her hair sprang free and fell, suddenly weightless. Behind her, Aang collected another lock of her hair, pulled it against the blade. She could see out of the corner of her eye as it drifted to the ground, joining the rest. A small circle of the stuff had formed around his feet.

Both of them were silent. She sat perfectly still, hands clasped in her lap, and he moved mechanically, almost stiffly. The back of her neck was cold, not used to being exposed to the breeze.

It was another few minutes before Aang spoke.

'Y'know, I am really gonna miss the hair loopies.'

She made a noise in the back of her throat. Truth be told, she would, too. She could feel them resting against her ears, and mentally calculated the minutes until they would be cut off. Three? Five?

'But at least it won't take as long in the mornings to get yourself ready.'

She shifted slightly, just enough so that she could glare at Aang from over her shoulder. He glanced at her, meeting her gaze, before returning his attention back to his hands, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. 'Just saying. Trying to get some positivity out there.'

Katara straightened again, turning her gaze to the ground at her feet. 'You are hacking off my hair, and you want me to be positive about it?'

She could feel Aang frowning. 'I am not _hacking_ off your hair. That sounds ruthless. View it as extensive trimming, if you want.'

'Extensive trimming, huh? When did you become an expert on hair?'

'Ever since my girlfriend went ahead and _burnt_ half of it off.'

She huffed, and muttered, 'I didn't just casually burn it off,' feeling a little guilty for snapping at him. He took another lock, more to the side of her head, and, gently, pulled it so it was taunt.

As he pressed the knife to it, he shrugged. 'No, you didn't. You just thought it'd be a good idea to lean over the campfire while your hair was down.' He added more pressure, and another lock fell to his feet. 'And then you were surprised when it caught on fire, and did nothing. _I_ had to come to your rescue.'

She gave half a smile. 'Came to my rescue? You started screaming and dumped a whole bucket of water on my head. You were more freaked out than me.'

Aang sniggered. 'You have no idea how scary you looked. Like, your whole head was _smoking._ I could barely see your face. It was like you had fire for hair.'

Another lock, gone. Her whole head felt light, and it made her feel slightly queasy. 'So, how short are you cutting it, anyway?' She hated that she sounded so worried.

'Um. It was… here.' He pressed a few fingers to the base of her head. 'I couldn't save much else, sorry. If you could let your bun and hair loopies down now, I'll start them.'

Sighing, she reached up behind her head and freed her hair, pulling the beads from her loopies. She winkled her nose at the charred smell, and Aang ruffled her hair – what was left of it – sympathetically.

'The wonderful thing about hair, Katara, is that it grows back. Give it a year or so, and it'll be back to normal.'

And then the front of her hair was gone, as well.

After a few minutes, Aang left to get a smaller knife – 'I'm not the best stylist in the world, I'll need to neaten it,' – and she ran her fingers through her hair. It gave easily, and it unnerved her, used to the long moments it took her to untangle it.

The longest parts barely reached her chin. It was still curly, and frizzed out around her head. The slightest breeze blew it across her face, since she could tie it back into the loopies anymore.

Aang came back with his knife, spent a few more minutes slicing through offending strands.

At one point, she had shivered at the cool breeze, and he almost dropped the knife, cursing under his breath. She had half turned towards him, raising an eyebrow, and he had smiled sheepishly.

'You would not believe how paranoid I am of cutting you,' he had explained. 'Now turn around and sit still.'

'You won't cut me,' she'd mumbled, but still obeyed.

By the time he had put the knife down, and Katara had stood and stretched, the sun had sunk below the horizon. Aang considered Katara for a second in the fading light, before smiling.

'I think it looks really cute.'


	3. Avatar State

**Wednesday 29th - The Avatar State**

* * *

Everything was a mess. There was voices shouting at him – they were shouting _in_ him. He could feel their cries bouncing off the inside in his head, and it felt like his skull was about to _shatter._ They sounded familiar, somehow, but yet they were alienated; he had never heard anything like this before.

He couldn't see, and he felt like he was stumbling, deaf and blind, crashing through the world. At the same time, he felt the _power._

He could feel himself moving, the grace behind it, the fury. He could feel himself strike, punch and kick, destroying whatever was in his path. He could feel the panic in the air, could feel himself go after the people who tried to run.

 _Stop!_ he screamed at the voices. _Stop this!_

The ground cringed beneath him, the trees seemed to try and shrink away. Everywhere, there were people running and falling – some scrambled to their feet, others stayed down.

Everything stank of death, and he just wanted all of it to stop.

He tried to take his body back, but something twisted inside him, and he cried out, too weak to do anything else.

More destruction, more terror. The voices grew – impossibly – louder, until they seemed to be the only thing that existed. They were panicking, too, screaming and howling. He yelled, fighting, but he didn't know how to stop and they kept telling him _not to stop._

Terror. Fear. Devastation. Death.

And then, he felt it. The only thing that he could sense that wasn't full of terror. It slowly came towards him, battling the elements, steadily coming closer. The voices screeched, demanding to stop its progression, to crush it, but he screamed back, trying to find the strength to fight again.

The thing came closer, and called out, cutting through the cries in his head.

 _Aang,_ it said. _Aang, it's okay. Everything will be okay._

And then he knew. Katara.

 _Come back to me. Please._

Her voice was louder, clearer, than the rest, and he latched onto it, clinging to it like a lifeline.

 _Aang, listen to me! Everything will be fine._

Don't listen to her, the voices cried. Don't listen, cannot trust. Cannot trust anything.

 _Can you hear me – it's all going to be fine!_

 _Katara won't lie to me,_ he shouted back. She was getting closer; he could almost hear her breathing. Then there was a warm hand on his arm, shocking him. He hadn't realised how cold he had been.

One by one, the voices faded, and Katara's came closer. _Nothing is going to hurt you,_ she whispered. _Nothing._

No, he wanted to say back to her. Nothing will hurt me, but I'm hurting everything else.

Only the smallest whisper remained in his head. With a last final push, they stopped altogether and he crashed fully back into his body.

As soon as his vision cleared, the world seemed to tilt, and he was dimly aware of his knees hitting the ground. Someone grabbed him by the shoulders before the rest of his body could follow suit, and he blinked; already his sight was fading.

Blue eyes looked down on him, filled with worry, framed by dark hair that hung loose, falling down her shoulders in waves.

'Katara,' he whispered. Behind her, the ground was cracked, the trees burnt, the sky filled with smoke.

'I'm so sorry,' was all he could get out before the world faded to black.


	4. Home

**Thursday 30th – Home**

* * *

All she wanted was to get to the rest rooms. That was all.

Aang had showed her the way when they first arrived at the Western Air Temple, a few days ago. They had both been silent, exhausted, but he had lead the way without hesitation, navigating through the winding halls and passage ways like it was second nature.

It probably was second nature to him. He had mentioned in passing that he had been here a few times – to adopt Appa, to take bending examinations, just visiting – and she could guess that he had done enough exploring to know the place like the back of his hand.

She had tried to imagine it like it had once been, with young children laughing, nuns walking down the halls, bison hovering just outside the windows.

She never could see past the scorch marks on the walls.

Even though it had only been a few days since Aang had shown her the way, she had completely forgotten. Within minutes, she had completely lost her bearings, utterly lost. Aang had been training with Toph, and she hadn't wanted to pull him away from his lessons, just so she could find the toilets.

Now she was wishing she had.

She had been wondering around for a few hours now, and night had started to fall. The ground was uneven, weeds growing up through the cracks in the pavement, and she kept stumbling in the fading light.

Then the halls were cast in total darkness, and she had to keep a hand on the wall just to convince herself she wasn't walking off into empty space.

She didn't even know what direction the campsite was.

Sinking down against the wall, she buried her face in her hands, trying not to panic. She'd just have to wait until morning until she'd find her way back, that's all.

And then she heard someone calling her name, she looked around, saw the end of the hall was illuminated, like someone was holding a torch. She froze, then breathed out in relief when Aang walked around the corner, a flame cupped in his hands.

'Aang!' she called out, her voice shaking, and she put a hand to her cheeks in surprise; she hadn't even realised she was crying.

'Katara!' He was running towards her, looking half thrilled, half annoyed. 'I've been looking everywhere for you! Where have you been?'

She looked up at him, open her mouth to explain – then burst into tears.

He was kneeling by her side in a heartbeat.

'Hey, now,' he whispered. 'Katara, it's okay. Are you hurt? Is anything wrong?'

She managed to shake her head in response, and he rubbed her shoulder.

He hesitated for a moment. 'Afraid of getting lost?'

She could only sniffle in response, curling up closer to him.

His voice was warm, gentle. 'Hey, that's okay. I get afraid of that, too. Wanna know a trick the monks taught me?'

Finally lifting her head from his shoulder, she regarded him for a second before nodding. He smiled softly, and pulled her to her feet. 'Well, we gotta find us some night sky first.'

Confused, Katara followed as he tugged at her hand, and once again he lead her flawlessly through the temple.

They ended up right at the edge of the cliffs, where the temples startled to merge with the mountain. Aang sat on the ledge, his legs swung over the side. Not quite as comfortable with heights, Katara sat beside him, her legs crossed beneath her.

Aang lent forward, almost his whole body hanging over the ledge, and pointed towards the sky.

'There's four constellations up there, one each pointing to an Air Temple. That's how they built them – so we'd always be able to find our way to where it's safe. We'd pick a direction, follow the constellation, and soon we'd be able to see the temple. While we're flying, of course.'

Gripping the edge tightly, Katara lent forward as well, and saw the stars he was talking about.

'If you're ever lost, you could still follow those stars. You don't even need to know which constellation it is – it'll still lead in the right direction. Of course, you won't be able to get to an air temple _,_ but you'll definitely find a town or village. You'll know exactly where you are.'

Katara stared, amazed. She pointed to a cluster of stars, looking over her shoulder at the monk. 'What's that one?'

He smiled in return, his face barely visible in the dull moonlight. 'The North constellation. Follow it, and it'll get you to the, surprise surprise, Northern Air Temple. And-' He pointed to another collection, to the east, '- That's the East Constellation. If you head between the middle of those two, more to the north, you'll head to Ba Sing Se.'

He half turned to face her. 'I find it handy, anyway.'

She could only nod in response.

He was silent for a few moments. 'So, where were you trying to get to, anyway?'

Katara looked down, embarrassed. 'The toilets,' she mumbled.

'Oh.' Aang gave a sheepish laugh. 'Well, you're probably angry with me at giving you lessons on the stars when you've been needing to go. Why didn't you say anything?'

'No, it's fine! Really,' she added, when he looked shocked at her outburst. 'I didn't need to go that badly anyway. This was… nice. I mean, it really helped. Thanks.' She blushed as she started to ramble.

Once again, he was silent, then looked at her slyly. 'If you want, I can find some of those glow-in-the-dark crystals and make a path to the toilets for you.'

Katara burst out laughing. Aang got his feet, offered his hand to hers. 'For now, you'll have to settle with _me_ leading the way.'


	5. Heartbeat

**A/N: Super sorry, but I was sick with gastro for a few days. I couldn't help but fall behind… I apologise about this one, but I had to put it together quickly so I didn't get too far behind... ):**

* * *

 **Friday 31st – Heartbeat**

* * *

Whenever he was dreaming, he was falling.

It threw him off balance. A small part of his subconcious would be calm, knowing that it was a dream, that everything was okay. The larger part would panic, every single night. The larger part of his subconcious would keep him paralized with terror, scream at him, beg to wake up.

An airbender's worst fear is falling. _Really_ falling.

You could push an airbender off his bison midflight, and he would be, even if he didn't have his glider. You could do the same with a blindfolded airbender, and still there would be no reason to panic. The air speaks to them, and they can speak back, grab hold of it, control their decent.

No airbender has ever fallen to their death while concious.

In his dreams, Aang fell through nothing.

There was no air, no wind. Nothing he could grab onto, nothing that could help him. He was blind, deaf. There was nothing to fill his lungs, and as he screamed, he could feel himself suffocating. He clawed at his throat, feeling his fingernails rip through his skin, yet _he still couldn't breathe_.

And still he fell.

The dreams never ended. Even when he finally jolted awake he could still feel it – the helplessness, the terror, the suffocation. He would panic sometimes, feeling the tightness in his chest, and think he was still falling, before realising it was his bandages wrapped around his chest.

He _had_ fallen, he supposed. In Ba Sing Se. He had fallen, and the city had fallen with him. But while the city had crashed and was burning, he was still falling, still failing. His dreams were just reflecting on his life.

A small part of him wished that he had crashed and burnt as well.

 **0o0**

She's the last one awake. Even the campfire has mostly faded away, leaving their campsite in darkness and without warmth. Sokka is out cold, sprawled out inside his sleeping bag. She can hear Toph snoring from within her earth tent, and she can image the tiny earth, curled up like a badgermole.

She herself has taken refuge on Appa's legs, like she does most cold nights. Aang, for once, has made a nest on the opposite side of the dying fire, away from his bison.

She's worried about him. Nobody had missed the dark bags under his eyes, but Sokka had said to give him time. 'He was in a coma for a few weeks,' he reasoned, 'his internal clock is bound to be off. He'll get it sorted in a little while.'

While she agreed with her brother, she doubted a messed up sleeping cycle was the only problem.

Even as she crawls off Appa and inches around the fire pit, she can hear him shifting in his sleep, whimpering. She can tell nightmares have been plaguing, but at the few times she's hinted at it, he had just shrugged it off, and changed the subject.

Now that she's beside him, trying not to breathe too loudly, she can see he's clutching at his throat, his breath fast, erratic.

A hand on his shoulder makes him jump and cry out, bolting upright. She jumps, startled, but recovers and grabs at him when he sways, starts falling to the ground again.

She expected him to flinch away from her, but instead he leans towards her, still gasping for breath.

There's an old healing tip that her grandmother was fond of. The woman had claimed to use it on her and Sokka a lot when they were younger and ill with a fever, even on Kya when she was a babe. For one who is disorientated, scared, or confused, let them listen to your heartbeat. Her grandmother said she doesn't know how exactly it works, but it does.

So Katara holds the airbender close to her heart. As minutes drag by, she can feel his own slowing, his breathing easing up.

Soon, their hearts are knocking together at the same pace, and they both closed their eyes.

 **0o0**

Now, whenever he slept, he never fell for long. He'd hear her heartbeat, and then she would catch him.


	6. Story Telling

**A/N: Um? I forgot to complete Kataang Week? For around a year? You should all know by now that I'm not the best at updating...**

 **I've fallen off the writing wagon recently - the last thing I wrote was this short original zombie fic a month or so ago, and before that I wouldn't have a clue, so I apologise for crappyness!**

* * *

 **Saturday 1** **st(HA!)** **– Story Telling**

* * *

The Fire Lord's birthday was, naturally, a big thing in the Fire Nation. Parties were to be held, important people to invite, food to eat. Paper work to do. Calling the Gaang from every corner of the earth back to one place.

Zuko had snapped a week before his birthday and hiked to Ba Sing Se to Iroh's teahouse. Aang had not been able to bring himself to drag him back to the Fire Nation like he had been asked to do. It was Sokka that suggested that they celebrate the firebender's birthday with Iroh, before returning back to the Fire Nation, and therefore missing all of the chaos that was Ty Lee's party planning.

It was a fine idea. Katara was certain of it. Sokka had even planned some of their own celebrations, and she was sure she would be enjoying them, if Aang hadn't grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into a cupboard.

It was a nice cupboard, one that Iroh apparently used to store blankets, sheets and pillows. It hadn't been designed to hold two teenagers messing about, but hey, she was flexible.

Aang, however, was finding it hard to manage his height – thanks to his last growth spurt – in the small space.

He went to move his arm – to do what, Katara didn't have a clue – but his sleeve caught on something in the cramped space, toppling a whole pile of sheets fell down on him. He squawked, hitting the end of the cupboard as he tried to step back, got even more tangled up and fell. She went to laugh, but he caught her waist on pulled her down with him.

' _Aang!_ ' It was her squawking now, and she struggled to straighten herself. 'You goof!'

She could hear him laughing from beneath the sheets, and he pulled her at her hip; she fell against him again. 'Now look what you made me do,' she heard him say, but she couldn't see his face. She tried to reach up to pull some of the sheets off of his face, but all she managed to do was get her legs tangled up.

She pressed her face against his shoulder. 'I'm all tangled up,' she said, and couldn't compress a giggle. 'This idea of yours is stupid.'

His hand moved to the small of her back and she felt him brace a foot against the floor of the cupboard, and suddenly she was flipped over, staring up at Aang as he lent over her. Part of the sheets fell away, creating a type of tent around them. Aang grinned.

'My idea is very good, thank you. Has Sokka barged in yet? Has Toph called out dirty jokes yet? Hmm?'

Katara pressed her lips together. 'We are in a cupboard.'

'A very _cosy_ cupboard,' Aang corrected, unfazed. 'I know you like this cupboard.'

'Do not.'

'You like this cupboard very much, yeah?'

'Nope.'

'But _Katara,_ ' he whined, leaning down closer; Katara smirked at him. 'This is a _good_ cupboard. _I_ like it. It even has sheets and pillows – it was practically made for us!'

'Oh? Has it got a good excuse for when Sokka realises we're gone, and comes looking for us? Has it got that?'

'Well, no,' Aang said slowly. 'But good for us, I already have that covered.'

'Yeah?'

'At this very moment, we are walking with Zuko down to the markets, shopping for a fabulous feast to celebrate this historic day.'

Katara tilted her head. 'Okay, but what happens when Sokka finds Zuko somewhere around here?'

'Oh, but Zuko is actually going shopping. I gave him a list. And don't worry,' he said, waggling his eyebrows. 'The list I gave him was _really_ long. He won't be back for a while.'

'So neither will we, huh?' She pushed him, and he toppled off her (he squawked again), hitting the back wall. The sheets fell to cover them, wrapping them in a cocoon. She rolled over to face him. 'We have all the time in the world?'

'For, like, two hours, yes.'

'Well, we'll have to make those two hours count then, won't we?'

Aang smiled then, a cheeky grin that spread slowly across his face. 'You know, when I was younger, I would've had hell to pay for telling stories?'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah. I honestly couldn't care less right now.'

'Ooh, aren't you quite the sinner?' Before he could reply, Katara leaned forward and kissed him. He laughed into her lips.

And then there was a knock on the cupboard door.

They froze, staring at each other, holding their breath as if that would help. _Is that Sokka?_ she mouthed, but Aang only made a panicked gesture that meant nothing to her. 'Um,' called a voice, 'Katara? Aang?'

Aang cleared his throat, pushing back the sheets on top of them. 'Iroh?'

'Unfortunately so. I would suggest to, uh, move your meeting to a more… sound proof location. I can hear you from the kitchen.'

'Uh. Thank you?' Even in the dim light, Katara could see how flamed-faced he was.

'Not at all,' Iroh replied, then apparently scurried back to the kitchen. Aang turned back to her, looking mortified.

Katara buried her head in her hands, wondering if she could wipe her existence from the earth. 'Aang?'

'Yeah?'

'Your ideas _suck._ '


	7. Stress Relief

**Sunday 2** **nd** **(HA!) - Stress Relief**

* * *

He was just in his pants, tied off at the knees, and she was in slacks and her undershirt. Not quite appropriate for sparring, but Aang can't be bothered to care and Katara hadn't been bothered enough to change.

In Aang's defence, Katara had rdragged him out of bed and had him down the streets of Republic City before he was fully awake, and even now as they walked through the doors of some training centre he was blinking, following dutifully as Katara tugs him along by his hand. The sun had not even shown signs of rising, and Aang points this out to Katara and says that he wants to be like the sun, but Katara just rolls her eyes and bounces into the waterbending section. Aang stumbles in after her.

The section they were in was nice, with windows facing the harbour and drains circling the room, flowing with water. Katara whirls to face him as he nears the centre of the floor. 'Waterbending only,' she whispers. 'None of your fancy Avatar tricks here. Just have fun, okay?'

'Okay,' Aang whispers back, and doesn't expect Katara to launch into action straight away.

She keeps Aang on his toes, and quickly he fully wakes up. The sun has now barely cleared the horizon, and Aang can barely make out Katara in the dim light. She moves too quick, slinks in and out of the shadows too fast for him to keep track of. He could easily use earthbending to sense where she was, what she was about to do, but that would be cheating, and he doesn't want to face the consequences – she'll probably have him eat sea prunes for a week.

Besides, he had kind of hit a mental wall with earthbending at the moment. Water, though, has always been fair to him, and he bends it to his will with ease, lashing out and parrying and striking Katara's ever moving shadow without even having to think about what he's doing. But there's something wrong with the way he's moving, he can _feel_ it. It's not the water; the water's doing what he's telling it to do… but it's like he's a beat too slow, too far off balance. For the past few days he's been like this. Like there's rope around his chest, pulling tighter and tighter with every breath he takes.

He can't figure out why he's like this, and in his frustration he lets Katara slip around behind him, and far too late does he gather himself up to defend himself, and the next thing he knows is that he's on his back on the opposite side of the room, coughing up water.

Katara's still standing from where she struck him, still holding water by her hip like she expects Aang to haul himself up and keep going. He doesn't haul himself up; he's exhausted already. It was barely even day but all he wants to do is go back to bed and curl into a ball.

He coughs again, and pushes himself into a sitting position. 'I'm done,' he calls, even though they've barely been going for fifteen minutes. He hears the edge in his voice and grits his teeth against it. Katara relaxes her stance, returning the water back into the drains. Her head's tilted and she's looking at him a little too carefully, so he looks away. The tattoos on his hands look almost grey in this light.

'Aang,' Katara says, and he hears her coming towards him. 'Hey. What's wrong?'

He glances at her again, opening his mouth to say Roku-knows-what – most likely a half-assed joke of some kind – but it's at that moment the sun finally breaks the horizon.

With his back to the windows, the light completely misses him and hits Katara instead, and the light paints her hair aflame, golden red and shimmering. Water droplets still glisten on her skin, and the shadows are dragged away from her face. He meets her stare, and has to swallow before he can answer her.

'I'm fine,' he manages, and the funny thing is, he does feel a bit lighter, more grounded.

Katara smiles at him then, and any air he had in his lungs deserts him.

She steps forward and pulls him to his feet, chuckling. 'I power slapped you good, huh? Haven't even caught your breath yet.'

He coughs again and gives a smile. 'Yeah, well,' is all that he can think to say, and reaches to ruffle her damp hair, wanting to see the blue against the red. 'I suppose I am getting old.' She slaps his hand away playfully and he grins, and feels something inside of him settle, and just like that, all tension drains away, and he breathes a little easier.

* * *

 **A/N: So, after a year, I have successfully completed Kataang Week! Thanks to those who stuck with me and read these – you're the best!**

 **In a couple of weeks, make sure you tune in for 2016 KW! I'll try to keep up this time, heh…**


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